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The house I grew up in was notorious in Singapore for being haunted.

Part of the battle for Singapore during WW2 was fought across the garden,

People fought and died there, and were left unburied.

In Asian culture without burial rights, it’s believed that you get stuck between worlds.

So with no closure, legend has it that our house carries the souls of 6 Japanese soldiers and a British man who lived there during the time.

Priests, monk, healers, psychics, have traipsed through the house.

Some are charlatans, some have vivid imaginations and some told us things that they couldn’t possibly have known.

We have been told the eery side effects of having ‘ghosts’ as housemates.
For the most part, they go unnoticed.
But over the years there have been some weird moments that are quite difficult to explain. We are now moving out.
While we have packed up all of our things there was one piece that has been left behind. A creepy sculpture that stood halfway up the stairs.
Tall and thin, she was never a prized possession.
All of the movers refused to move her from her spot on the stairs,

And there was an unexplained eeriness when attempts were made.

She was labelled ‘leave’ with a blue post-it.

But the sticker wouldn’t stick.

So it was attached to a thick paper and woven firmly around her.

But after several hours, and only one person having been in the house, the paper was by her feet and the blue post-it stuck to her forehead.

It was decided she would be left in the house.
The house is no longer ours and the keys have been handed in. And that’s that, until a text last night from the agent.

A picture of the sculpture by the door, and message to say we had left her but not to worry she is being sent to our new address.